HCs for when they find out you used to be the enemy.
Barret - Turk Reader
Pre AC (Advent Children)
You might think it's automatic breakup, but it depends on how long you've been together
It's especially favorable for you if you've been along for the hunt for Sephiroth for a while without betraying the group to Shinra
You and Vincent make a good team when it comes to espionage against the Turks and Shinra, especially since you'll have more up-to-date info than Vincent. It gives Barret great satisfaction to stick it to 'em
Sometimes he has doubts about you but he feels guilty and will probably admit to it and apologize during a moment of rest
If you helped drop the plate, it's over. Let the man cry. He's gonna carry on with the adventure
Post AC
Again, it depends on how long you've been together
Huge, huge bonus points if Marlene has taken to you. Because then it's a break from her, as well. He really wants stability for her
He'll have a really hard time justifying continuing the relationship if you were involved in dropping the plate, especially since that means you were hiding it until now
If he breaks up with you, his heart is just as broken as yours
Rufus Shinra - AVALANCHE Reader
Pre AC
It's likely that he'll break up with you unless you can prove you've got something useful for him
If you can help track AVALANCHE, minor brownie points
He's very slow to trust a romantic partner so dropping this truth on him will probably put him in a sour mood and he may lash out a bit. Or he may just go cold and shut you out
His presidency has not gone well and he doesn't want more stress and uncertainty
If he hasn't done that, and you have some of the necessary skills, perhaps he'll have you join the Turks. He can keep an eye on you better. You can slowly earn his trust back. If you get hurt this way, he'll get angry at himself
Post AC
It doesn't matter as much what you did before
It matters more that you're committed to helping him with his current projects
You should make an effort to get along with his Turks, though
Major bonus points if you were around while he was sick with geostigma
If he has any lingering doubts, be patient and he may eventually try to talk it out with you
Tseng - AVALANCHE Reader
Pre AC
When you tell him, it's clear he's feeling some kind of way: angry, sad, or conflicted. Maybe all three? But the silence stretches so long that it's uncomfortable and you wish you were arguing loudly instead
It's not that he wants to breakup with you but he doesn't feel like his life is his, so he leaves without confirming either way
It's a dick move and he knows it. However, he can't leave well enough alone. He keeps tabs on you from afar, hoping something changes and he can try to come back
Post AC
He is surprised you want to stay with him. After Shinra collapsed, there's much less for him to offer you (he definitely took a pay cut). And most of his time is spent helping Rufus
Give it time and these boys (and Elena) will probably realize there's more to life than living how things were before Meteorfall
If someone who used to be a part of an organization that opposed Shinra wants to be with him, perhaps it'll give him the courage to open up about why he's repressed most of his feelings for so long
There's clearly sadness and shame inside and if you're lucky, you can help him through it
Tifa - Turk Reader
Pre AC
She's more lenient than Barret but she also can't abandon her found family if they reject you, saying they don't trust you
She can recall all the good memories you've had together, squeeze your hands, and ask you to wait for her
It's a tearful farewell, with you wishing you could come along and help, even if just to support her. She's strong but she's also got a weak side that you want to protect
If you can convince them to let you tag along, she will eventually convince them to be friendly. After saving the world, they'll become your found family, too
Post AC
She may be distant for a while, busying herself with her bar
If her long-time friend, Cloud, refuses to have anything to do with you, she's torn but
She'll come around eventually if you prove that you don't have any bad intentions and intend to stick by her
If you want the same things as her in a relationship, you've found your best girl for life. Work with her at the bar until you retire
Reno - AVALANCHE Reader
Pre AC
Reno's response is most likely to continue the relationship mostly because "why the fuck not?" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ He's already this deep
If he gets caught, he'll get in trouble, so he's extra careful when meeting up with you. He was already being discreet so he gets extra sneaky
He does tell Rude, reluctantly. Since Rude was taken advantage of by an active AVALANCHE member in Before Crisis, he's very skeptical that this is a good idea
Step a toe out of line, however, and it's over. Reno isn't going to go against his boss and his best friend
Fights extra recklessly for a while because the man is upset
Post AC
Honestly, who gives a fuck? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think the most he'll feel is a little guilty. He knows what he's done over his lifetime
He'll be curious how you can reconcile having been part of AVALANCHE and then switch to dating a Turk
When you explain that AVALANCHE could sometimes be just as violent as the Turks, it eases his conscious but only a little
Rufus Shinra uses female reader as a substitute for Darkstar, but with sexy times
dubcon, pet play, humiliation, rough sex
You felt really guilty for the accident you caused involving the president's dog. Tseng told you it wasn't necessary to go to the 70th floor to apologize but you still came. That's how you ended up wearing a dog collar and a leash, sitting in Darkstar’s dog bed, hidden away behind the tacky monstrosity of a decoration behind the president's desk, which also serves as an oddly-placed room divider. Maybe it was supposed to highlight the president's desk as a throne-like chair but to you, it was just ugly. His father had no taste.
You warily watch Rufus place a bowl with water down. He places a bowl with a sandwich next to it, closer than the water. You are hungry. Without thinking, you reach for it and pick it up.
“No,” he says firmly. “Bad dog.”
Rufus takes the leash, crouches down, and pulls on it. He forces you down towards the now-empty bowl. He keeps pulling until you either have to drop the sandwich or crush it when your hands meet the floor to catch you.
You end up dropping the sandwich and it lands leaning on the edge of the inside of the bowl. You're now staring at the food and you're still hungry. You plead with the sandwich with your eyes, as if you can will it to jump into your mouth.
“Be a good girl and eat.”
It's very awkward, and you end up with sauce on the corners of your mouth, but you start eating the sandwich. Rufus, now standing again and giving plenty of slack on the leash, hums in approval. You finish the sandwich but ignore the water bowl. You sit up on the dog bed.
Rufus crouches down again, pulls a matching handkerchief from inside his white coat, and wipes your mouth off, muttering about 'dogs always making a mess.' It's a surprisingly caring gesture.
He smiles. You merely stare back, wondering what's next.
Rufus doesn't keep you wondering for long and forces you down on your hands and knees with the leash again. You fight him more this time but he is stronger than you. You've never sparred with him before so this is a surprise.
Rufus hums a chuckle. “Go on. Fight me.”
He's asking for it, so you buck and thrash. The water bowl is knocked a few inches, water rocking and spilling over the side. You thought he was going to have you to drink from it this time but instead, he kneels behind you.
“A dog worth breeding, aren't you?” he asks, sounding as if he picked you himself from the breeder and is pleased with his choice.
Rufus is now over you. He has one hand next to yours on the right side. The other is tugging your shirt out of your trousers. His spread fingers are gliding up your stomach to your chest with a gentleness you didn't expect, subduing you. You are a poseable doll, waiting for him to move you.
He has to stop fondling you for a moment to undo his pants and push them down. He pulls yours down, as well, and your panties. He spreads his knees enough to press his bulging erection against you; it rubs against your perineum, heating your skin. He's over you again, slipping his hand under your bra. He's been gentle enough so far, except you feel bad for the way he's stretching your bra. You don't want to have to find a new one that fits properly. The way he squeezes your breast earns him a whine and surprising you.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
The proximity of his voice makes you shiver. All of his attention is sending your blood pumping south. You chance leaning forward and away, but he stands and catches your hips, pulling them back. He rubs his clothed erection one more time against you, wetting the front of his underwear with your slick.
He must have taken his cock out, because he's now rubbing it against your labia.
“You like that, don't you, Girl?” he asks, the tone dark.
It's either arousal or a threat. In case it's the latter–and he makes it more humiliating than you can stand in retaliation–you lean back into the head of his cock. His grip on your hip tightens as he groans.
“I knew you were the dog for me.”
Rufus is pushing the head between your lips. It meets too much resistance, making you try to pull away again. Rufus takes pity on you and stops pushing forward. He covers you with his body again. Instead of returning to your breasts, he pushes your chest down to the floor as far as you can go, tilting your hips up and open. It seems he had cleared his schedule just for this, because he spends his time carefully working you open and slowly inserting his entire length to fill the space. He also pulls off your suit jacket and your shirt up to your shoulders, exposing your entire chest to the cool air.
He's not so gentle when stroking between your legs, making you whine more and finally cry when he makes you come together.
“What a good dog,” he pants huskily.
After he pulls out and stands, he taps the side of your hip with his open palm, saying, “Up.”
You obey, eyeing him carefully.
“Take off the rest of your clothes. You need a wash.”
Even though your most intimate parts are out for anyone to see, you still can't bring yourself to remove them completely. He tuts and removes them for you, tossing them carelessly to the floor. He tugs the leash once to get you walking close behind him. Your bare feet sound loud slapping across the smooth, hard floor. It's obvious what a mess you are between your legs so a ‘wash,’ or whatever he means, is starting to sound good. Rufus leads you to his personal bathroom hidden behind a plain door at the side of his office.
There's a shower inside. He strips, intending to shower with you. While he's removing your collar, you want to argue that no one showers with their dog. But that would be admitting that you're a dog and it would probably please him in a twisted way you're not ready to accept. While under the water, Rufus doesn't let you cower your naked body in embarrassment. He wraps his arms around you from behind, handing you the bottle of bodywash and ordering you to clean yourself. You soap yourself hesitantly. He takes the bottle from you after a minute, doing it for you. He's gentle again, making you slowly relax and almost forget your earlier humiliation. While cleaning between your legs, his soapy fingers end up straying too close to the opening of your urethra, making you push him away and open your mouth with a glare, the closest you've gotten to saying stop.
He snickers, then warns you, “Don't bite.”
He uses his own shampoo and conditioner on your head before turning off the water.
He has a change of clothes ready for you after you towel off. It's not your Turk uniform. You slightly grieve not being able to put it back on. Wearing this new set of clothes is being immersed fully in this charade of his. You put on the clothes, then he puts the collar back around your neck. He's pleased with the blank look in your eyes after attaching the leash. He barely needs to pull on it to get you to follow.
Rufus drops you off back at the dog bed. You end up curling up and falling asleep in it. After being warmed up by the shower, you're surprisingly sleepy. It is a comfortable bed.
You wake up to voices on the other side of the divider. It's early morning, judging by the low light through the panoramic windows, and Rufus is discussing company business with a voice you don't recognize. They don't know you're here so you're forced to stay here or risk being seen in your current state.
When he is served his own breakfast, he drops off some for you and fondly strokes the top of your hair before returning to his desk. This time it's less awkward to eat than a sandwich. Afterwards, you find yourself wondering why you just ate with your nose in the bowl; he didn't even watch this time. You sneak a drink from the water bowl by bringing it to your lips.
Rufus takes you to use the bathroom in between appointments. He allows you privacy for this.
It's evening now and Rufus wants to ‘play’ with you some more. He appears before you, his coat and the belts that hang from his waist removed. He's pleased with how obediently you wait for him to take out his half-soft cock. You stand up on your knees.
“You adore me, don't you, Girl? Show me.”
He holds his cock up at an angle, showing you the side, so you kiss down the length of it. He keeps muttering good girl as you lavish attention all along his dick, sucking in different spots. When you get to his scrotum, what he says next makes you pause.
“You want me to breed you again, don't you?”
You could argue that wasn't the signal you were sending but looking into his eyes, you see they are already clouded with lust. Rufus takes off his tie, his pants, and boxers, but leaves the shirt and gloves. You've sat back on your heels while he does this.
“Lift your arms.”
You obey and he slips off your shirt. Your leash is pulled up with it and gently slaps your stomach when it falls back down. He's on you again, this time from the front. He kisses your mouth before tugging on your lower lip once and leaning back to pull your bottoms off, including the underwear. The second time he lunges towards you, he bites your neck hard, with teeth on either side of your collar, making you moan but squirm a bit in pain. His erection is digging into your thigh so he guides it to its intended home, rubbing it against your entrance.
He holds his hand over your face. “Take it off for me, my good girl.”
Carefully, you bite the black leather. He slides his hand out. He smirks with satisfaction.
“Well trained, aren't you?”
When he reaches down and slips a testing finger inside you, you nearly drop the glove with another moan. He pulls that finger out but replaces it with his middle finger. Once those are both slick, he inserts both at once. He's more aggressive this time but your insides stretch faster to accommodate his efforts this time.
Rufus plucks the glove from your mouth, then shoves his fingers inside, giving the order, “Lick.”
It's not the strange taste that bothers you but your wounded, throbbing pride. Maybe this is-
You're thinking this is when you'll call an end to this when Rufus gathers one of your legs in the crook of each arm, then lowers himself closer to your body, finally slipping his cocking inside you. The position forces your thighs back as far as they will go. Unsatisfied with how deep he is, Rufus ignores this limit and uses his weight to push your legs back a couple inches farther, the stop of his sternum starting to flatten your nose. Panting, whining, and sweating from the position, from the dog bed and his body pressing you into it, you hope he'll get the hint and have mercy.
You get no such thing. His thrusts are slow but deep, tearing at your entrance enough to make you cry softly and dig your fingernails into his arms through his sleeves. His cock reaches new pleasurable depths you previously couldn’t reach on your own. It’s not enough, however, and Rufus reaches climax alone. After he pulls out, you’re sure you’re going to be sore for days.
“I got you, Girl.”
Rufus swirls his fingers in the mess he made of you and trails it upwards to your clit.
“Mr. President?” comes a respectfully hesitant voice from in front of his desk.
“Be right there,” he calls.
Rufus leans down with a hand next to your head. “You’re a good girl, right?”
He begins to stroke you, intending to make you cum with the stranger standing right there.
Rufus is injured and a hint of his true feelings come out when he's unconscious.
There was red staining the white. It's spreading outward alarmingly. Rufus hissed in pain. It looks so bad that even Elena is frightened into silence. In the scramble to get him on the helicopter, his hand ends up in yours. Thinking nothing of it, you use it to help him to his seat. He hasn't let go yet so you're forced to sit next to him on the floor. You feel the helicopter lift into the air.
“He’s passed out, guys,” Elena announces.
Okay, so why hasn't Rufus let go of your hand? He is slumped forward, hair waving in front of his face and not in a position to give you an explanation. You're the only one who isn't sitting in a seat and you're feeling it. You tug gently but his grip only strengthens. Your hand starts to ache but you can't pull any harder without taking him with you.
You think you hear snickering from the back but it stops suddenly. Hopefully because of an elbow hitting some ribs.
There are many stressed bodies loitering on the helipad when the helicopter lands but they know better than to get too close. The medical team lifts Rufus onto a stretcher and you're pulled with him, falling on top. There isn't time to be embarrassed–though you were. The medical team hesitates. You quickly look around for Tseng.
“Hey, Chief. Chief!”
He picks your voice out of the bustle and notices your predicament. It takes both of you to pry Rufus' fingers open. Tseng then places his boss’s arm on the stretcher. He is wheeled in the direction of the elevator.
Many hours later, you're seized by curiousity and decide to go by Rufus' hospital room. Several pairs of troopers from Public Safety are stationed at makeshift checkpoints. Basically every doorway, the stairs, and just after stepping off the elevator. You quirk an eyebrow at them, striding past unhassled on account of your uniform. There are so many of them on this floor that it reminds you of tree-lined roads. It feels like Heidegger is standing there, looming over everyone. Obnoxious but necessary, you suppose. You finally make it to your destination. Tseng stands just outside, speaking to someone who looks like a doctor. A nurse slips out of the door, who Tseng glances at.
Tseng turns his gaze to you when you come within range. He excuses himself from the doctor, who goes in the direction of the nurse. With the level of security, you half expect to be turned away or told to come back later.
“How is he?” you ask.
Tseng simply waves at you to come with and walks towards the door. Cocking your head with an unasked question, you follow him inside.
You're not surprised to find a single Turk hanging around Rufus' room but you didn't expect to find two more inside. Rude sits on a chair against the wall, in a gap between equipment. Reno flanks the bed, silently ruminating. He looks up when you come in.
Rude nods at you, his usual greeting.
“Hey, Big Guy,” you respond with a smile.
“Hey, hey,” Reno says quietly. Or at least, quiet for him. “C’mere.”
He takes your arm and leads you to stand beside Rufus' bed.
He is dressed in something comfortable but there has to be quite a few stitches under there. Imagining them makes you frown in worry. The circles under his eyes are darker like someone smudged light grey eyeshadow there. Yet, he is probably getting the best care in the world so there's no need for your worry. Someone even combed his hair back from his face recently.
“Reno!” you scold him in a whisper.
He's tugging your hand toward Rufus’ side. His fist lies outside the blanket. Reno won't let up. You don't want to raise a fuss in here so you don't put up much of a fight.
When your hand makes contact with the fist, it opens automatically. It closes over your fingers.
“Ha! See?” Reno says.
“I guess you're right,” confirms Rude.
You're awkwardly standing there in confusion.
“Guess we can go now,” states Reno.
“What?” you say.
He ignores you. Tseng has left already. Rude ignores you, too, except to give you his chair. You sit. There wasn't much else you could do. Rufus has a strong grip on your hand.
Do you have a blind spot when it comes to people flirting with you? Do you want an office affair with Tseng? Look no further
It's 7:36pm. No offense to Reno but to Tseng, you're a better sight than he is. Tseng is obsessively drawing the lines of his letters darker into the blanks on his paperwork. His pencil is etching a letter T deeply into the paper when you come into the office.
"Hey, Reno. Chief." You place a short stack of paper on Tseng's desk. "All done, Sir." You give him a smile. He tries to remember if he's seen you give that exact smile to anyone else. Then the corners of your eyes crease in concern. "Maybe you need a day off, Chief."
"Yeah, right," says Reno.
Tseng ignores your suggestion. "I'll check over your work. Please have a seat."
"Boss, it's been months," says Reno. "Lay off the newbie."
You smile, fidgeting. "It's fiiiine."
Not that invested in the matter, Reno lets it drop. It's been two long, boring days since he's been in the field so he gives you a nudge. You respond by scrutinizing him closely, asking him silently if he really wants to start. He smirks.
"Okay, but I won last time," you say confidently.
The slick, black sofa is soft enough to cushion elbows and knees as you begin trying to pin each other to the genuine leather. Tseng stares hard in front of him at the words you've written, trying to ignore the stupid laughter coming from your direction. He goes over each paper three times.
"Reno," you suddenly yell. "No teeth. I told you."
The pencil lead snaps.
You look up at the sound. Reno tries to take advantage of your distraction to dislodge himself from under you but you're well-practiced by now. You compensate by shifting your weight.
"Reno, go home," Tseng orders.
You get up, grinning because you won this time, too. Reno pushes past you grumpily, making you laugh.
"See you guys tomorrow," Reno calls behind him, his voice lacking any trace of anger.
You watch Reno leave with a flat expression. After waiting five seconds, you hop onto the corner of Tseng's desk. "He's gone."
"Lock the door."
You're off and back in a flash. You're back on the desk, pulling him strongly by the suit jacket. It's a hungry kiss, like neither of you have eaten all day. Your hand drops his jacket and hovers near his hair, like you long to run your fingers through it. But he told you once that fixing clothes out-of-place is easier than hair. He smiles into the kiss. You've tried to listen and do as he's asked. Always. You stopped needing your work checked two months ago. Neither of you needed to stay this late. This song and dance is just waiting until everyone is gone. Then off come the clothes and you test if a random piece of furniture can bear the weight of two full-grown adults.
You're patting his cheek gently. "Hey, should I get the towel?"
You never miss a detail. Tseng gazes up at you. You're too good for him, he considers.
You frown. "What's wrong?"
Before he can stop himself, he shoots a frown at the now-empty sofa. You catch this and follow his gaze.
"Oh, that? Good warm-up, huh?" You wave your hands in front of you. "Nothing's going on."
Tseng is still frowning but doesn't meet your eyes. "It doesn't matter. I don't like it."
"It's just some fun! I have to stay sharp. You know that."
"It's not just fun for him."
"What? But...oh. I see."
Watching you go from confused to realization to looking apologetic makes Tseng feel guilty. It seems like you genuinely didn't know Reno was flirting. Wrestling others into submission seemed to be one of your favourite forms of exercise. You're both lucky none of the furniture broke during a particularly passionate night.
"Tseng." Hearing his name jolts him out of his thoughts. You continue, "Am I supposed to stop with Elena and Rude, too?"
"No, I," He stops, pressing his lips together. The mention of others makes him question why he cares in the first place. This was supposed to be just sex, which is why the affair was being kept secret in the first place. Just sex meant a lesser chance of interference in the duties of both of you.
"Well, you seem to be having an off day. Maybe tomorrow?" You kiss his forehead.
"Ah...yes." He doesn't actually agree and he wants to stop you from leaving. He also hopes you didn't see his ears heat up and how stiff he's trying not to be. But he wants to have his thoughts together first. He refuses to face such a conversation without preparation.
You exchange good night's and his gaze follows you out the office door.
I'm annoyed that I lost the previous Sephiroth non-con I wrote. I'm pleased that I came up with another idea. Turk!Reader gets toyed with under the cut.
You were assigned to be President Rufus's bodyguard for the evening at some banquet. The details of why it was being held were unimportant. The president seemed annoyed that he had to go. That made you briefly curious, especially after he seemed to enjoy his inauguration so much.
“No trouble is expected but I thought it was prudent to send someone because of the recent assassination attempt,” Tseng explained.
President Rufus seemed even more annoyed at needing a babysitter but added nothing. He wasn't the type to take it out on his subordinates, anyway.
You chose to wear a short, strappy dress in a light fabric and classy colour. The straps allowed your arms to move. The waist was tight and the skirt flared out, ending at mid-thigh, giving your legs freedom. You made sure to wear thin shorts hidden underneath, with a pocket for your phone. A nice balance of pretty and practical. You weren't going to embarrass the president with your choice and would fade into the background nicely behind him.
“I didn't want to bring you and I know you didn't want to come,” the president told you on the night in question. “Let's make this as painless as possible, shall we?”
He said that with a smile but you could tell there was an order hidden in there for you to loosen up.
“Yes, Sir.”
He seemed pleased with that answer. You arrived to the event on his arm but anyone in the know knew you weren't exactly a “date.” He didn't give any specific instructions because you were trusted to know how to behave. In other words, just stand there and be observant. Be a pretty deterrent.
Scarlet was overdressed in comparison, which was to be expected. She wore red, again, but this time with more ruffles and sequins. It wasn't an ugly dress but it looked like she was competing in a competition no one else entered. You blended right in, as long as you didn't stand beside her. Not that you were going to.
Everyone sat for the speeches. The speeches. You rolled your eyes when you thought no one was looking. You took your place, standing at Rufus’s side, while he waited his turn to give his own. He was speaking dead last so it was going to be ages. You scanned the room but everyone remained obediently in their seats. No threats. But rather than get too comfortable, you continued to scan the room every once in a while. It was a way to tune out the shallow Shinra circle-jerk on stage. As much as being out in the field was dirty, and the choices you had to make were hard, it was more comfortable than this.
You spotted what might be a welcome distraction. A field assignment might have wandered in and you felt like it showed up just for you. In the hall, after catering staff swung the door open and closed, something resembling a black robe’s bottom hem disappeared off to the left.
You placed a hand lightly on the president’s shoulder. He turned his head. You leaned in close.
“I see a black robe out in the hallway.”
He glanced across at the room full of people. He frowned. “Find out what it's doing here. Do it quietly. Take care of it before the night is over.”
“Yes, Sir.” You bowed.
“Take care of it” meant “eliminate the target if necessary.” Either way, you were relieved to leave that room full of self-important people. Rufus, you could handle. A whole room of people you had to be polite to, you could not. Not without being absolutely exhausted halfway through the night.
The black hem disappeared around the corner. It didn't quite resemble what you'd seen of the black robes. It did enough to warrant an investigation. You followed around the corner and the scene repeated itself. This time, the black hem disappeared around the corner into the women's washroom. You paused, then realized it was absurd to wonder if the black robe knew where they were going. Needing to get to the bottom of this, you went into the washroom.
It was as expensive as you expected. Every surface was clean, cream-white, and so shiny that you could see yourself in the floor’s reflection. Thankfully, the stalls went down until an inch off the floor. There was even tile cut into the shapes that make up the Shinra logo set in the walls, framing the mirror. The only thing you didn't like was that someone installed those impractical sinks you sometimes see in restaurants trying to put on a fancy façade.
The speeches were still going so the bathroom was empty of attendees. But it was too quiet. The distant, dull murmur of whoever was giving the current speech had faded away at one point. That made no sense, which should have been a warning sign. But your Turk pride didn't let that stop you from starting to open the stall doors one-by-one. Your low heels scuffing on the floor was still the only sound as you found each one empty. You got to the handicap stall, expecting a dramatic finish. You swung it too hard, the dull bong of its impact making you flinch. The creepy situation was starting to get to you.
“Behind you,” said a deep, male voice.
You whipped around, sneering defensively.
You've never met this man, however, you recognized the former SOLDIER, Sephiroth, immediately. You've seen still shots from camera feeds, posters, and illustrations, but you’ve never heard the man's real voice. You would like to think his voice would sound comforting if it wasn’t for the context. He was also as terrifyingly tall as they say. He's holding his signature sword and smiling, too nicely, at you. What he wanted with that smile and why he was here, it couldn't be good for you.
He glanced down at your dress with cat-like eyes and back up to your face. “Aren't you beautiful?”
“No,” you denied immediately. Panicking. No one calls someone beautiful while advancing on them with a giant sword.
He merely chuckled at your attitude. “You're too hard on yourself.”
“What do you want?” you demanded of him, eyes darting to the door behind him. “Back off.”
You're not sure what your plan was. You talked big but in reality, you were just a scared woman trapped in a bathroom with a big, strong murderer. You had speed but so did he, according to the legends. Legends that also said he was supposed to be dead. He was blocking your escape through the door so you did what you could only do. You dashed into the handicap stall and slammed the door–and lock–shut. After a second of thought, you flattened your back to the wall, expecting a long sword to stab through the door.
Undeterred in the slightest, he easily sliced through the lock and pushed the door open.
“That's cute. I like you,” he said, flashing you a smirk, as if commenting on a cute mouse trying its darndest to escape. Even if he meant his words to sound nice, it sounded like a hungry wolf talking down to a frightened rabbit instead.
He turned back to the door to use his sword to barricade it shut. Without enough of a gap under the stalls to slide under, you were trapped in here with him.
You eyed him as he slowly took the remaining steps towards you. He grabbed your shoulders and squeezed. Not too hard, just enough to show that you wouldn't be able to move an inch. And you did try. To your shock, he went in for a kiss. Now that he was here, this close, you froze up. He pulled back and thumbed your chin affectionately, as if to reassure you. Maybe he doesn't want much more, you desperately lied to yourself.
Of course that wasn't true. This time he went in for a bite to your neck. You squealed for the first bite, immediately clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any subsequent sounds because he continued to bite. One of his thickly gloved hands travelled down your front, gently squeezing each breast they went. Each touch sent a pleasurable lightning strike to the core of you. You cursed your thin dress. The free hand left your breast to pull one of your straps down to bite in that very spot previously covered by the strap. He suddenly yanked on that strap, tearing the dress halfway down the front and back. His teeth left marks. So many marks. He left you resembling a cheetah on your upper half.
You thought he was going to tear your bra next. Instead, he pushed it up, creating overflowing soft flesh. He grinned and bit you there, too. He sucked and glanced up at you with a lazy predatory gaze. A cat holding a toy in his mouth. When he was satisfied, he let the bra fall back into place, leaving another mark behind. You blushed, grateful that at least this one would be easier to hide.
Your phone started vibrating in the small pocket in your shorts. Sephiroth found it immediately. He glanced at the caller ID and then held it up for you to see. ‘Rufus Shinra,’ it read.
“Think he's worried?” he asked in a mocking tone that was real this time.
“Maybe. Maybe you should let me go.” You tried to put venom into your voice but it was looking like you might as well give up at this point.
“So cute. I'm not done with you.”
Sephiroth let the phone drop to the floor. It bounced once and landed face-up. The screen splintered but remained lit.
“They're looking for you so we'll have to cut this short. Heh, speaking of…”
Being pleased with his little joke made his smirk break into a creepy smile. He temporarily slid his sword from the stall walls and carefully cut your shorts. You held your breath and tried so hard to stay still that you trembled. Never in a million years were you moving with that thing so close to your skin. Next, Sephiroth pinned one of your shoulders to the wall with a palm. He undid his belt. It landed buckle-first on the floor. Then he opened his black coat. He groaned in relief while unzipping his leather pants. A large, dark spot had formed in his black underwear over an obvious bulge. He pushed those down and his cock sprang out.
It looked like it had been waiting, full, mauve in colour, and smeared with precum all around the head. It was, unfortunately for you, proportionate to the rest of him.
You looked at it, then his face, the expression which had not changed much all night. “Just get it over with.”
He slowly leaned in, eyes boring into yours. You expected retaliation. He picked you up by your thighs like you weighed nothing and weaved your legs around his waist. You gripped his arms for balance and in a sort of misplaced panic. What you didn't expect next was for him to blur. His image split in two, then quickly reformed. The new image was President Rufus. It was still Sephiroth's expression, though. It didn't look quite right.
“Maybe you'd like this instead?”
Hearing your boss’s voice say that while Sephiroth pumped his–or Rufus’s–cock with his fist, made you dizzy. He didn't seem to be considering anything you wanted, just what he thought you wanted. Him thinking you wanted anything at all from him was out of left field in the first place. Or maybe he was still mocking you and had been all along. It was tiring and thinking about this psycho’s intentions was getting you nowhere. He was already pressing the tip of Rufus's length to your entrance. This was not something you wanted burned into your mind and could bear to see every time you saw the real Rufus. Not without your face heating up to dangerous temperatures, anyway.
You covered your eyes and firmly patted his shoulder. “No, stop. Change back.”
“What, you don't want to sleep your boss?”
You took your hand from your face because you heard his original voice. It was a trick. He split again, this time reforming as Director Reeve.
“I never had a problem with this one,” Sephiroth/Reeve said, eyes narrowed in a pleased manner.
You let Sephiroth's strange way of describing him slip past you. You only met Director Reeve once. He was nice. A little high-strung, but otherwise normal. You didn't want your impression of him ruined by Sephiroth's twisted game. You stiffened and beat his shoulders.
“Change back,” you insisted.
The phone started vibrating again. This time the screen read ‘Tseng.’
“Don't,” you said to Reeve's face.
Sephiroth split and reformed again. With his real face, he laughed at you. “I wasted too much time, didn't I?” Fear made your neck and arm hair stand up. He was having fun. You didn't have much time with that fear because he was pushing in.
“Ow,” you whined.
“You got this.”
“Shut up,” you said weakly.
“I can make this harder,” he said.
Despite that, he did not get any rougher. Nor did he get especially violent. He didn't need to. You couldn't go anywhere. The tiled wall was no longer cold and it was damp with your sweat.
He started to fuck up into you, getting painfully deeper with each thrust. You started to wonder why he needed to go this far. Why you hadn't just been killed.
“Why me?” you finally had the courage to ask.
“You? You remind me of someone.”
Thoughts of what exactly that meant and who it could have been swirled in your head until you got a little nauseous.
Sephiroth decided to take his time with a steady pace. He leaned close, treating you to groans and soft gasps right in your ear. You briefly considered covering his mouth. But this psycho would probably start sucking on your fingers for all you knew. A faint echo in the large bathroom made it harder to tune all the noises out.
The loudest groan yet finally signaled the end of this, or so you hoped. He panted as he cock filled you in long spurts. It filled you until his semen tickled as a couple of globs dripped from your skin to the floor. He must have been pleased with how things went because he kissed you behind the ear. Like a cherished lover. His next words renewed your panic.
“Why haven't you finished?” he asked, pushing your legs down and allowing you to stand again.
You landed shakily. His expression was expectant so words just came out of your mouth. “Well, umm-”
You couldn't believe it. You almost gave him some excuses about having trouble finishing and…as if your Turk pride wasn't hurt enough by being caught here and played with by the enemy.
He split in two again. You had reached your limit with his nonsense. You shut your eyes tightly. Silence. You waited for more teasing or another colleague's voice. Nothing came so you dared to open your eyes. Sephiroth, and his sword, were gone. He tricked you again.
In case it was part of some new game to return and play with you some more, you fled the bathroom. Because of the state of your clothes and body, you avoided the banquet room where you come from. There was a hallway behind it near what looked to be mop closets and a staff washroom. You leaned against the wall and pulled out your broken phone. The poor thing, you thought. You felt a kinship with it, both of you have been broken tonight. Most of the missed calls had been from President Rufus so you called him first.
“When you didn't report back, I had to evacuate everyone. What happened in there?”
He sounded unhappy. It threatened to break the thin façade of professionalism you were struggling to maintain.
“U-um.”
He didn't press the matter immediately and seemed to be considering your shaky reply. You heard Director Heidegger’s voice in the background. The president told him dismissively that everything was under control then continued your conversation. “Where are you?”
“...a back hallway. Behind the banquet hall.”
“Alright. Stay there,” he ordered.
The president found you crouched there in the hall, trying to wrap the remnants of your ripped dress around you and painfully fully aware that you're still covered in bite marks. You kept your thighs clamped shut, hoping no one would notice your nudity there. You felt his stare but also a gratitude for the distance borne from the professionalism of your work relationship. Even if he did dare to ask what happened, you wouldn't be answering tonight. He thankfully called Tseng instead.
“Send Rude to take her home. She's…”
“Had a scuffle with Sephiroth in the bathroom,” you filled in loudly, glossing over what happened with an acceptable lie.
There was a pause and you thought he might question what you said, but didn't. “...right. You heard that, I assume?” he said to Tseng.
President Rufus kept Tseng on the line, speaking in serious tones. At one point, he dropped his coat onto your shoulders, startling you. You hurriedly pushed the buttons through the holes to close the coat, your fingers stumbling a few times. A few stragglers were filing past. You turned to face the wall, head bent down to avoid any eye contact.
nsfw, strangulation, Rufus basically sharing you with someone else
Rufus changes his mind and puts some of his clothes back on. He walks around the ugly decoration to talk with the person waiting on the other side of his desk. After a few minutes of conversation, you hear two pairs of footsteps. It's too late by the time you realize they're coming closer. Your body twitches with the leftover urge to get up and cover yourself, or hide, or something.
The other person comes around the decoration on the heels of your new master. It's Rude. You feel simultaneously flush and like someone threw a bucket of cold water over you. You didn't recognize his voice. Vaguely, you wonder how long you've been here, in this dog bed. Didn't you used to work with this man, Rude? You were a Turk, weren't you? Then you see Rufus proudly smirking down at you and it throws a thick blanket on those thoughts, covering them.
It's dim so Rude doesn't comprehend immediately what he sees, until Rufus starts talking. Rude’s eyes bug out of his head behind his sunglasses. Rufus gestures towards you like a server offering a table at a restaurant. In your haze, you register what's about to happen. Especially since Rufus points directly between your legs. You're still a doll. What poses are you going to be put in next? Who else is he going to lend you to before this is over?
Rude gazes down at you, spread out and a mess. An incomplete one. You still have an orgasm in you, waiting to see if he will be the cause of it. He wants to ask you if you want this but Rufus has given him an order. Following orders is part of the job. He kneels down as if this is another job. He pulls your legs over his thighs.
“Gloves off or on?” Rude asks you, holding one at the base, ready to pull it off.
“On,” Rufus says.
Rude sighs quietly. He lets go of the glove. He backs up a bit and bends down. You get the strange sensation of a leather-clad finger being slid inside your pussy. Rude starts off with a rough lick to your clit. Your muscles swallow around his finger in response. He backs off completely and looks at Rufus.
“What are you waiting for?” Rufus taunts him.
That's enough for Rude, who unbuckles his belt. Then he hesitates, like he’d rather the situation was different. He ends up pulling his dick through the front of his underwear.
“Hold still,” Rufus says.
This time the order is not for you. He's wrapping the leash around Rude's neck. Once. Twice. He gives a testing tug. Rude exhales, his eyes disappearing upwards between his lids, loving it.
You can't see but you feel Rude tilting his hips, slowly driving his cock inside. You gasp quietly; he's thicker than Rufus and there's discomfort. You expect Rufus to snap at him impatiently but he allows Rude to move slowly and gently.
Rude gathers you in his arms, under your shoulders, and lifts. He’s gentle but this time, it lacks the deceptive quality like with Rufus, who always follows it up with something rough and dominating.
“You’re going to want to hang on,” Rude says, finishing the sentence with your name. It feels like months ago that you last heard it.
You hook your hands behind his traps. He guides your legs around his waist. Maybe you could hook your ankles together with Rufus but not Rude. His body is thicker and more solid. He gives his hips and testing roll. It feels good but you’re sore.
“Be a good girl and thank him. You’re not being polite,” Rufus says.
“Thank you, Rude. It feels good, Rude.”
It comes out somewhat robotic but Rufus is pleased. Rude exhales again, this time with added tension.
“Are you ready for me, Baby Girl?” Rude asks.
He surprises you by being ready to dive right in. Your cheeks heat up. Maybe…he had a secret crush. You nod, wanting to know how he feels about you. Rude feels the same so he goes in for a kiss, continuing to roll his hips. Your lips were already parted but he still waits for you to whine before sliding his tongue inside. Your next whine has a pleading lilt, making Rude moan into your mouth.
You forgot Rufus was there until Rude makes a strained sound. Rufus has pulled the leash tighter. Rude can still breathe. He’s panting onto your open mouth. His next roll rises up higher, going deeper inside you.
“You feel good, Baby Girl,” he says breathlessly.
“Doesn’t she?” Rufus purrs, proud of how another man enjoys his new pet’s body.
Rude loves how your wet, messy pussy keeps swallowing around his cock, drawing him in. Drawing him into your world where you strangely wear a collar while Rufus watches as you fuck your colleague in the back of his office. It's so strange, but it feels so good when you squeeze him, that he likes it. You stare at each other with eyes glazed over with lust as you rut against each other, moaning, like two primitive beings in the back of a cave. You should be questioning this but Rufus's presence makes sure you don't even want to.
You started off further than Rude so you come around him. It spurs him on, fucking up inside you faster, breathing your name over and over.
“That's enough,” your master says.
The leather creaks softly, rubbing together, as he pulls the leash tighter. His flashing blue eyes snap to you and you obey the unspoken order. You tense your neck and bow backwards, pulling down on the other end of the leash.
Rude emits jagged rasps. He goes still.
There's a sudden explosion of warmth deep inside as he comes. He slides his cock in and out slowly a few times, his seed smearing with it and oozing out a little. Rufus unwraps the leash.
The sunglasses fall off Rude’s face. Rufus catches them. He offers them back to his subordinate.
“Sir,” he mutters in thanks, accepting them and pushing them back on.
“Dog. Be good and thank Rude for making you come,” Rufus orders again, this time disappointed that he has to remind you.
“Thank you, Rude…”
Rude can see you're getting sleepy. He lays you back down on the dog bed and slides his arms out from under you. He places his hand on your pelvis and you feel the retreat of his soft cock. Rufus's voice sounds distant as he tells Rude he'll take care of you, and you fall asleep.
You're the one who blocked the attempted assassination at Junon so Tseng and Rufus make a shocking offer. Smut under the cut
You blocked the assassination on a fluke. You really did. You happened to be distracted while the president was talking to the suspicious troopers, looking up at the adorably designed upper Junon buildings when you saw the small would-be assassin holding their large, round weapon. You only had time to raise your arm after dashing with all your might in front of the president. Your watch was smashed to pieces by the impact and you were knocked to the ground. It’s a miracle you didn’t break a bone or suffer a deep cut. Just a scratch and some bruising. What surprised you the most wasn’t the attempted assassination itself but the eye-bulging glare Heidegger gave you before he quickly stuffed it down. You ask yourself inwardly what the heck his problem was. The president was safe.
You’re nervously rubbing the bandage on said scratch, standing in front of the president’s Junon office desk. The president is saying something about a reward. But Turks don’t usually get rewards, except for excessive hazard pay. Reno got a vacation, yes, but it was to mitigate a future issue, not a reward. He had been getting antsy enough lately to risk a costly mistake. Tseng stands next to you. His expression gives nothing away because he is ever on standby for orders and now is no different. You idly wonder if Heidegger wishes he could be here in place of Tseng but you couldn’t picture the arrangement differently.
What’s strange about this reward is that you’re being given a choice. That’s not something you’re used to. Both of them are staring at you, waiting for your answer. You lick your lips, mind racing. You can’t think of anything and you’re very aware that you’re wasting the president’s time. Tseng speaks your name in a scolding manner, gesturing with his head towards the president. Hurry up.
The president raises his hand to quiet Tseng. He grins widely, his teeth peeking through. “I know what you want.”
You frown, examining his face for a clue to indicate what he’s talking about.
Instead of explaining, the president gestures Tseng forward. “Come.”
Tseng walks the path leading to the other side of the desk.
Rufus points at the desk. “Sit. Take it out.”
You’re more confused. Tseng sits to the side of Rufus, facing him diagonally. You’re still waiting for an explanation. Then Tseng starts undoing his black trousers. Your jaw hits the floor when you see his dick in hand. Your arousal is ignited but your stomach also twists in uncertainty.
It’s deliciously fat and a lovely shade of light brown, which the president covers with his mouth, robbing you of the view. With the way he moves, you can guess he’s licking the shaft. He has his eyes shut tight, clearly enjoying himself. Tseng turns his head away so instead of a side profile, you see nothing. You can still see his chest expanding with heavy breaths. The hand visible to you balls into a fist. Rufus catches Tseng looking away and pulls his mouth off his subordinate.
“You can look at me or look at them. It’s your choice,” he says, licking his lips.
Tseng looks like he wants to grumble. He turns an indignant gaze to you, nose lowered like he had been caught being rude and was angry at himself about it. You feel pinned in place by his hardened, dark eyes. Not that you could tear your eyes away, anyway. You want to walk over to Tseng and kiss him, deepening his pleasure.
Rufus smirks and gets back to work. He may be giving but it's obvious who is in control.
Rufus is pretty much swallowing Tseng’s length whole by this point, with his nose pressed to the other man’s black pubic hair. Tseng cups his head, gently rolling his hips into Rufus’s mouth on occasion. His breath is stuttering. You wonder if this means he’s about to cum.
You get your answer when Rufus pulls back completely, letting Tseng cum in a weak stream onto the floor. After a few moments of pulling himself together, he stands up to put away his softening cock. You wonder what it would take to make him cum harder and more loudly.
“Leave it,” Rufus says, lounging back in the chair.
You realize that he’s talking about the mess on the floor. And that he really did order Tseng like he would his giant dog. Tseng just nods. It’s a strange dynamic and you’re starting to wonder if it’s something you want to be involved in. You already do have to do things you don't want to during work hours. It’s obvious that Rufus is about to ask you to join their little affair and make it a threesome, even if briefly. Based on the fact that you’ve never even heard a rumour, they must work hard to keep it a secret. The thought of joining all that is exhausting. However, all the blood rushed to your nethers many minutes ago and it’s overriding your better judgment. You can’t let this opportunity pass you by. You would jump in front of the president to protect him and you would get involved in something messy if it meant you see under these two’s clothes again.
You blink. The perfect idea strikes you, giving you the courage to give a counteroffer.
Still lounging, Rufus rubs the front of his pants. He gestures you forward. “Come.”
This time it’s you who raises a hand. “No. But I had a different idea.”
Tseng sighs with his shoulders, then says to Rufus, “I told you.”
“It’s fine.” He waves the other man’s protests off. Then he leans forward in his chair to rest his chin in his palm. “Go on.”
You explain that while you’re very flattered by their offer to join this sexy little club, you don’t want to neglect your duties. R&D recently released the ability to send images via message on your Shinra-issued phones. You proposed they send photos of their “entanglements”, whenever and wherever they may happen. You thought this might appeal to Rufus’s ego and thrill-seeking tendencies but you’re not sure about Tseng. When you finish explaining, both pairs of eyes examine you. You’re heating up under their combined gazes but you feel a last rush of courage and stand firm. Finally, Rufus blinks and you think you see astonishment in his eyes. He leans back and crosses his legs.
“Alright. We can do that. But this doesn't go beyond the three of us. And I want proof that you’ve deleted everything after 24 hours. Or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
He smiles confidently like you wouldn’t dare betray him. You don’t trust yourself to speak with confidence right now so you just nod.
“You’re dismissed.”
As you turn, you catch a wicked smile growing on his face. You get several feet away and hear a faint “This could be fun,” from the president behind you. Tseng replies calmly but you can’t make out the words.
It’s late in the evening and you’re off-duty now. You head back to the hotel room to sleep off the day’s excitement. Maybe in your morning shower, you could have some fun thinking about what you got to watch today. You’ve turned off the bedside lamp and settled into the bed when your phone dings, announcing the arrival of a message. You’re not allowed to turn it to silent. You grab the phone immediately in case it’s Turk business.
It’s not. It’s a new number and the message comes with an image attached.
“Shit.”
The message reads: You forgot to leave your number. I got it from Tseng. I had to show you what you missed out on.
The image shows who you assume to be Rufus, judging by the white clothing in the background, holding his erection straight up. Maybe it's the closeness of the shot, but it's huge. After seeing his cock in all its glory, you know you made the right choice in the moment. You would have jumped on it too eagerly and probably hurt yourself. You snort in amusement. Leave it to Tseng to be practical in all things, including dick size.
Your phone dings again. You tap the notification that follows.
What, no comment? Don't you want him? He certainly wants you.
You tried to distance yourself but the president found a way to still make demands. You groan, smiling despite yourself. “What did I get myself into?” you mutter aloud.
*What do y'all think ? What kind of photo would Tseng send?? I'm betting on a fresh-out-of-the-shower naked pic
A week and a half goes by before you receive another photo. Being alone with Tseng is awkward in the meantime. But he refuses to acknowledge your secret agreement in person so you start to relax. Then Rufus sends you another photo. You’re equal parts excited and anxious as you open it.
This picture wasn't raunchy in the least but it was still revealing and intimate. Rufus held the camera up to the bathroom mirror, grinning knowingly into the lens. That wasn't the part that drew a gasp, however.
Tseng stood just in front of Rufus, with his back to the mirror. Rufus’s free hand rests on the back of his subordinate’s neck, his fingers drawing aside black hair. Drawing it back like a curtain on a window into their relationship. You realize you've never seen the back of the chief's neck. You would have never in a million years suspected he was hiding a Shinra logo tattoo underneath. Yet, there it is, crisp edges and beautifully dark–probably because it never sees the Sun.
“Shit.”
It represented power he shouldn't have given President Rufus. Or any other person, for that matter. Tseng must not agree or he wouldn't have gotten inked. You wondered, just what must have transpired between these two for this to be the result. Rufus must have given Tseng something of value in return, assuming this wasn't an uncharacteristic mistake on your boss’s part. The tattoo was an excessive show of loyalty, making an exclamation mark out of a period at the end of a perfectly satisfactory statement.
You rolled over, pulling the blankets up to your neck. You had best be careful, lest you end up branded yourself. Loyalty was one thing, this was another.
You chuckled to yourself. Too bad you can't get yourself demoted.
You think, that settles that. But your phone beeps, mocking you.
It's another photo. It seems to be chronologically after the first as it's taken in the same bathroom in the same mirror. Rufus is holding the phone again.
The frame is askew like he couldn't hold it straight. Tseng's gloves are actually off; the surprises keep piling up. His hand is gripping the top of Rufus's hair. Not only are his gloves off but the rest of his clothing. What seemed like a part of their very bodies was probably discarded somewhere on the floor in the next room. The president looked vulnerable without his double layer of custom-tailored white fabric.
It's a shame you can't see Tseng’s pretty cock this time because he's buried in the back of Rufus. The latter grips his own as it juts out over the sink counter. His jaw is slack, implying a moan.
You feel like you're witnessing a private moment. But you suppose that's the point. It probably enhanced the experience knowing they sent you this.
